


the prophet, the liar, the honest

by mydeerjoshua



Series: 100 suns until we part [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Character Study, Divergent AU, Gen, I guess???, and there's an OT3 if you squint, this is 95 line centric btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 02:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9269057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeerjoshua/pseuds/mydeerjoshua
Summary: "One choice can define you." (Allegiant, 2013)[a prologue one-shot for an upcoming series in a Divergent AU with Seventeen members - year 1]





	

**Author's Note:**

> As you've read in the summary yes this is only a prologue for a longer series of fics I intend to write. I have yet to decide the format of the rest of the series, since chronologically from the day the 95 line chooses until Dino chooses, there's a 4 year gap in there. I do plan to explore every member's side, though, but it may take a while.
> 
> This is based on Veronica Roth's Divergent Trilogy but I've made small modifications so as to adapt the dystopian setting to Seventeen's context. The title comes from 30 seconds to mars song "This is war".
> 
> Also you may have noticed the title contains three nouns while we have three main characters in here. Friendly reminder the order doesn't necessarily reflect who is who in this story *wink wonk*
> 
> Without further ado,
> 
> Enjoy.

 

 

 

_Side: Seungcheol_

Throughout his seventeen years Seungcheol has had enough time to desiccate the intricacies of catching a train on the move. It's more about the timing than the physical exertion, synchronizing his inner energy to the pace of the train. It took him a few years to understand that.

The first time he ever thought of trying he was ten and really behind his friends, who had already collected a handful of bruises and scratches from running and falling to catch the train. While they'd get up, dirty and wounded but oh so excited to try harder next time, Seungcheol would stand there and watch with his tender knees and soft hands. The kids would joke he was a scaredy cat, tiptoing his way around like he wasn't born Dauntless, like he didn't belong there. When he brought that issue to his parents they merely said he had no reason to worry. Kids develop in their own time. Seungcheol ought to find his place.

Those words were encouraging for his young, weakling self. He'd start to eat more, exercise harder, learn how to fight, chase after the train until his feet throbbed and his lungs burned. His body hurt all over but it was a good kind of pain. His friends egged him on, competed with him on who was the fastest, the strongest, the bravest. He was happy. He belonged.

The quaking of wagons brings him back to the present just in time to see the train approaching fast. He knows the drill. Fists close, knees bend, feet leaving the ground in a fast pace. He doesn't even break a sweat when the wagons flash by his side. It's too easy now, so close he could just grab the first handle he sees and haul himself inside. But Dauntless never chooses the easy way, so he waits. One, two, three, the wagons race and so does he. The last one comes into view and that's the cue he needs.

His hand closes around the last handle and he slings himself inside with one swift move. He barely trips when his feet touch the metal ground, so used to this he could do it forever. Wait on cue, run, jump inside before dust is the only thing he sees as his pass home leaves him behind. It's been almost eight years since he started chasing after that train but the hands that hold the handle are shaking even now. He punches the button and the door slides close. He's safe. He's going home.

Seungcheol flops back on the floor, sighing when the cold metal meets his burning skin even through layers of clothes. He closes his eyes to catch his breath. The thrill of the chase hasn't left him yet but he has little time to rest. Forty three seconds later he jumps to his feet, pressing the button to open the door. The cliff between the train and the rooftop before him is just as he remembers. He's seen a couple reckless kids (too reckless even for Dauntless) fall to their deaths when he was thirteen, having barely mastered the antics of all this. He doesn't like to think about how his feet hesitated for half a second on that day, leaving him hanging on the edge of the rooftop before he found the strength to pull himself up. He survived, but those kids didn't. The adults lamented their deaths, but what they preached the most was their bravery to their last breath. Dauntless until the end.

He almost misses the cue again, five years later now, jumping on the last second and letting a rather piteous scream leave his mouth when he rolls around the rooftop. The hand he brings to wipe his sweaty face smears something on his forehead. Blood. He doesn't remember hitting the pebbled ground with that much force but he doesn't care. He's alive and bleeding just enough to prove it, but his knees buckle and give in when he tries to stand. _Weak_ , a voice inside his head sings. _Scaredy cat, our Seungcheolie is._

The denial is at the tip of his tongue. _You're wrong_ , he wants to say. _I belong here. I catch the train every day. I jump to safety. I survive. I'm brave. I belong here._ But he knows he doesn't. He knows he isn't brave. The Aptitude Test will confirm it tomorrow, when he's eighteen and his birthday gift is the confirmation of years wasted on delusion. He doesn't belong to Dauntless, where his family and friends are, where his supposed home is. He doesn't belong there. He's not even brave enough to admit it out loud.

The Choosing Ceremony is two days away. On one hand he has the train, the safe and sound future, the familiar lie he's known all of his life. On the other hand he has four possibilities to make it right, four chances to dare and take. But he's not daring. He knows what he'll choose.

 

X

 

_Side: Jeonghan_

Throughout his life praises have showered upon Jeonghan's head. He is often regarded as the perfect image of Candor: cunning, honest, sassy to a point, but charming in the way he always stays true to himself. Naturally, The Choosing Ceremony wouldn't be a problem to him as it was for some of his fellows. Jeonghan knows exactly what he wants and he lets people know it.

“I'm choosing Dauntless.”

That doesn't mean his choice isn't a surprise to his friends, though. He's fresh out of the Aptitude Test, lazying around the Candor complex with them. Mingyu is plucking flowers around them while Minghao has his head on his lap, but two sets of eyes immediately look over him as Jeonghan makes the sudden revelation. He grins at how adorable they look, similar expressions in synch as they stare in shock. Minghao sits up to meet his eyes at the same level, searching for traces of lies on Jeonghan's face. Both of them know it's a futile act.

“Did your Aptitude Test say that?”, Minghao asks.

“Nope, I didn't say that, did I?”, Jeonghan shrugs, “I said _I_ am choosing Dauntless. The test said I was Candor to a flaw.”

That is a lie. And that lie is precisely why he's leaving Candor for greener pastures. From a young age since he was first taught to never lie, he started lying. Truth is a hand gesture he copies, a smile he learns how and when to wear, right words said at the right time. It bends to his every whim, it obeys him and that's what rubs Jeonghan the wrong way. The foundation of Candor was so fragile under his tongue, cracking in his white lies, turning into dust and debris by his touch.

“Hyung, are you serious?”, is what Mingyu asks now, leaving his flowers aside to drop by Jeonghan's side, distressed puppy eyes looking down on him, “You're leaving us?”

“If you want to put it that way yes, I am leaving”, Jeongan replies, almost apologetically, ruffling Mingyu's hair, “It will be the two of you from tomorrow onwards.”

Mingyu and Minghao visibly fidget in discomfort. Unlike him, his two friends have never been anything but truthful. Minghao and his acid comments, Mingyu and his sweet smiles. Jeonghan and his white lies. He'll miss the strange harmony they are, the perfect blending of three different shades that colored his days beyond the black and white of Candor. Jeonghan looks at them now, Mingyu and his thinkful pout, Minghao and his sour purse of lips. He complements them with a smile.

“It's going to be ok”, he says, patting both their heads, “You will have each other's back when I'm no longer here. Besides, it's two years for both of you to choose too. Perhaps we'll meet again.”

The words feel fake on his tongue but Jeonghan stubbornly says it, perhaps more to himself than to the others. He's always known the three of them met by chance somewhere none belonged. Their friendship was temporary at best. Kids usually befriende those they knew would remain together either inside their born faction or would move together to a new one, but the three of them didn't stick together for that reason. Jeonghan knew, from the moment he laid his eyes on them, that they didn't belong together, much less belonged to Candor. Mingyu was too soft, too warm and kind for the harsh truths; Minghao was too forward, too free to be held back by black and white honesty. Jeonghan himself was too much of a liar to stay true to the Faction. They had to leave.

A soft caress to his long hair sprouts a flower from Mingyu's soft hands. It's a bright yellow against Jeonghan's black locks, and somehow it speaks volumes about Mingyu's true nature. He smiles at that pun. He knows he isn't meeting Mingyu again.

“I hope we will”, is Minghao who voices their fear and prayer.

 

X

 

_Side: Joshua_

Despite being one of the few religious people in Abnegation, Joshua isn't one keen to praying. He's been to the few masses Abnegation has hosted, following humble sermons about peace and gratitude and the maintenance of their society. He'd repeat the words, knelt down, head low in respect, hands clasped tight in prayer, but he never quite picked the habit. He's usually too busy helping around the block, doing household chores or tending to the Factionless to remember to pray. Still, a wooden cross hangs on his neck, the sole item he dares flaunt under grey clothes. He thumbs at it on occasion, a small reminder that something keeps his feet on the ground, a promise of servitude towards his parents, friends and society.

One of these rare moments Joshua catches himself praying, in public moreover, is precisely today. The big day, as some call it. The Choosing Ceremony. The Hub is packed with youngsters and parents chitchating, like little bees buzzing around him, resonating a melody that has his hands closing around the cross. He clutches it, brings it to his lips and mouths a couple words of protection and wisdom. It's not nervousness what he feels, though. It's a strange sense of foreboding, a feeling at the back of his head that's followed him throughout the week since they announced the Aptitude Test aplication and the Choosing Ceremony date.

His mother squeezes his shoulder, reassuring, a tranquil smile on her lips. Joshua smiles back, lowering the cross. He knows his mother understands and accepts whatever choice he makes today, be it stay or leave. Society says Faction before blood but Joshua knows, and this is a little transgression they share at home, lights dim, family dinner with no intruding ears to listen: he will be loved beyond Faction, whatever path he chooses. Regular parents may have never allowed this kind of freedom and reassurance for their children, but his weren't regular parents. They weren't born Abnegation, but they chose it for love. For love, they had Joshua, and for love, they will let him go if he wants to.

“Choi Seungcheol!”

His thoughts draw back to the ongoing ceremony, just in time to see the first boy make his choice. It's not unheard of that Dauntless will most likely choose their home faction, so Joshua is not surprised when the whole Dauntless crowd stands up to cheer and holler at their old new member. It's endearing how warmly they welcome Seungcheol back, as if they're rejoicing a prodigal son returning home. Joshua knows for a fact that Dauntless rarely change factions unless for very special reasons. His smile twitches, squeezing the cross. Very special reasons.

“Yoon Jeonghan!”

His eyes follow the next kid, a long haired boy dressed in black and white, a face that brings a fleeting memory from school. Joshua may have seen him walking around the place with his friends, always so talkative, as per usual for Candor. They loved to chat out loud and spill their not-always-requested truths, for anyone who minds listening or not. If Abnegation allowed themselves the liberty to, Joshua knows they'd be the firsts to judge Candor for disturbing the silence and peace of each individual. As for Joshua, he's always laughing around Candors, even if laughing isn't well seen in someone who should be selfless. He likes the honesty edging on rudeness of them, but he knows Abnegation would never allow that kind of discourtesy.

Jeonghan's choice isn't very surprising either. The Dauntless welcome yet another new member with enthusiasm, making the place vibrate with their shouts when Jeonghan not so respectfully blows a goodbye kiss to the Candor audience. Many members of other factions eye Dauntless with reproach, and Joshua knows if Abnegation had any sense of self they'd be shaking their heads too. But they stay silent, ignoring the fuss. Joshua follows suit, keeping it to himself, though a curious eye stays glued on them.

“Hong Jisoo!”

His own name being called interrupts his thoughts though, and Joshua is quick to descend to the stage. He faces his options, evaluating each one. Should he tag along with the Dauntless crew? Be brave and loud and eager for adventure and danger? Or should he follow Candor? Seize the truth and be honest to himself? Should he choose Erudite? Study and uncover the world? Should he accept Amity? Live a peaceful, cheerful life surrounded by friends and fruits? Or should he stick to Abnegation? A life of selflessness, dedicated to others, for others, until his dying breath?

He knows the answer before the knife cut his palm and he bleeds into his choice, clutching the cross on the other hand. A forebonding for a special reason.

“Abnegation!”

 


End file.
